Stay With Me
by tigercub22
Summary: The story of Cato and Clove from its beginning in the training academy of District 2 to its tragic end in the 74th Annual Hunger Games arena.
1. First Impressions

**This is a Clato fanfic that me and my best friend are writing. All characters and settings belong to the Hunger Games, but as there isn't that much about District 2 in the book we had to invent a few places and characters. ~Tigercub22**_  
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* * *

_Cato. Cato._

They say that before you die your whole life flashes before your eyes; and yet as I lie dying in the grass all I can see is his face. Pain has obliterated the arena around me; my entire world shrinks to one word. Cato. I long to let go; to stop fighting and let myself drown in these endless waves of pain, and yet I can't bear to die without hearing his voice just once more. So I hold on and wish with all the strength I have left that'll he'll get to me in time.

I'm not afraid to die.

I'm afraid of never seeing Cato again.

* * *

It wasn't love at first sight. Far from it. In fact, during our first year at Fortis Academy we were rivals. The rivalry between us began in our very first lesson together, a knife skills class. I was confident that knife skills would be my best class, as I'd practiced throwing my brothers dagger at crows flying over our back garden. I could hit them nine times out of ten. As our instructor demonstrated the correct technique, I was the only member of the class not paying rapt attention to her. Instead I took the chance to glance around the room and observe my classmates, or as I saw them: my competition. Most were watching wide eyed as the instructor tossed her dagger lazily into the air and caught it with effortless grace, only one person was paying as little attention as me. A boy, with messy, sandy blond hair and dark eyes. He was quite stocky, as he hadn't yet grown into his strength, and his angular features still retained some of the roundness of childhood. Like me, he was eyeing up the rest of the class, with a distinctly cocky and disdainful expression on his annoyingly cute face. Our eyes met for a second; he grinned and I quickly looked back at the instructor and pretended to be extremely interested in the instructions she was giving.

'Now, I want everyone to get into pairs. There's only one target per pair' she said, gesturing towards a row of circular targets along the back wall of the training room, 'so you'll have to take turns. I'm not expecting anyone to manage to hit it today' – She was cut off by a burst of laughter from the blond boy. She fixed her gaze on him, eyebrows raised.

'Is there something amusing about that? Perhaps you'd like to share it with the rest of the class.'

The boy shook his head, looking down to hide his slight grin. After a longer pause than was necessary the instructor continued: 'As I was saying, it's doubtful that any of you will hit a target today. Just try not to hit each other and you'll be off to a great start. Now pair up!'

Instead of looking for a partner, I headed straight for daggers and selected what looked like the sharpest one. I ran a finger lightly along its edge, turning it over in my hand, getting a feel for its weight and balance. Happy with my choice, I then went and stood in front of the nearest target. I was just about to throw the dagger when a voice behind me said 'You're aiming wrong.'  
I whipped around and found myself face to face with the blond boy. He still had that same smirk on his face. I glared at him.

'Oh really? And how would you know?'

His smirk widened. 'Please. I've been throwing knives for years. I can hit a flying crow out of the sky every time.'

I gave him my best sceptical look. 'Sure. I'll believe that when I see it.'

His expression hardened. He seized my arm roughly and turned me to face the target. 'See that target? I can hit it easily. Watch.'

He aimed, then hurled the dagger towards the target. He'd put a lot of weight behind the throw but his aim was slightly off; the dagger struck the edge of the target and went spinning off to the side before hitting the floor with a clatter. I let out a peal of derisive laughter. 'The only way a crow would be in danger from you is if you were aiming for the one next to it.'

He turned to me and snarled 'You hit the target then. Go on.

'With pleasure.'

I positioned myself in front of the target. With a practiced eye I assessed the distance, then whipped my arm forward and flung the dagger. I'd misjudged slightly; the dagger hit the target just off the centre and stuck there, quivering slightly. I turned to the boy and smiled smugly. He stalked off to join another pair, muttering angrily to himself and shooting evil glances back at me.

I retrieved the dagger and prepared to throw it again, confident that I'd hit the centre of the target this time now that I had a feel for the distance. A prickling sensation at the back of my neck told me I was being watched, and out of the corner of my eye I noticed the blond boy and two others staring at me. I felt my cheeks grow hot, but I did my best to appear unaffected. Conscious that they were watching me, I took aim and threw the dagger a second time. It was an awful throw; the dagger didn't even make it to the target.

'Not so high and mighty now are you?' the blond boy called out from across the room, while his companions fell apart laughing. My cheeks burning, eyes stinging with tears of frustration; I turned and ran from the room with their laughter ringing in my ears.


	2. Enemy

The doors to the training room slammed closed behind me; shutting out the sound of the blond boys laughter. The silence in the black tiled corridor seemed eerie after the chaotic noise of the training room. I stopped running after just a few steps and took deep, shuddering breaths, biting down hard on my lip to prevent a sob escaping from my throat. My mouth filled with the sickly sweet, metallic taste of blood.

I blinked angrily and roughly wiped the tears from my face with my sleeve, furious with myself for losing control. For showing weakness. I turned to face the black metal doors again and imagined myself throwing them open and striding defiantly back inside, but then that image was replaced by an image of the blond boys smirking face. I couldn't bear to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd made me cry. So instead I turned away and wandered off along the labyrinthine corridors of Fortis.

I'd only entered Fortis for the very first time the previous evening, so I had no idea where I was going. All the corridors looked the same: floor to ceiling black tiles so shiny they could be mirrors, a single long thin white light along the length of the ceiling, huge metal doors at sporadic intervals. Eventually I turned a corner and entered a corridor punctuated with windows looking out over the field where the eighth years do most of their training. The field is surrounded by an 8 foot high electric fence, to prevent anyone coming close and seeing what's going on in the field. The Capitol are happy to turn a blind eye to children being trained for the Hunger Games at Fortis even though it's officially the training facility for Peacekeepers, as long as we at least pretend to hide what we're doing there. The village children used to play a game with the fence; they'd see who could get closest to it and catch a glimpse of the eighth years training. Then a boy named Tibby got electrocuted, and the fence was put under constant surveillance. It's now guarded by Peacekeepers, and anyone caught near it faces being publicly whipped outside the Justice Building. That's if you're lucky.

I peered out and of the window and watched entranced as the eighth years trained. They were lethal; their spears an extension of their arms, movements swift and precise, attacking each other mercilessly. I forgot to breathe as a dark haired girl wrenched a spear from her opponents hand with so much force the spear snapped in two, then fast as lightning flicked her spear up to her opponents neck. For a moment I was sure she'll kill the other girl, but then they both laughed and shook hands and the dark haired girl walked off in search of a new opponent, tossing her glossy hair back over her shoulders.

'Hey.'

I jumped a mile; I'd been so absorbed in watching the eighth years I didn't hear whoever it was approaching. I turned and found that the speaker was a girl; tall, with silvery blonde hair tied back in a fishtail plait, dressed in tight black trousers, a black vest top and black leather boots. She was obviously an eighth year. She stood with her arms crossed and raised her eyebrows at me.

'What are you doing?'

'Nothing.' I snapped, turning back to the window. The girl came to stand next to me, resting her elbows on the windowsill.

'Yep, that's what it looks like. Why aren't you in training?'

I didn't reply. Her question brought back the humiliation I'd temporarily managed to forget, and to my horror I suddenly felt like I was about to cry again.

The girl looked at me for a moment. 'See them?' she said, jerking her head towards the window.

I nodded.

'You want to be as good as they are, don't you?'

'Yes. More than anything.' My words came out more forcefully than I had intended.

'Then why aren't you in training?'

I kept silent. She sighed.

'You're not going to learn to fight like that overnight you know. Hell, when I first came here I couldn't tell one end of a spear from another. It takes years of practice. Hundreds of defeats. Each time you lose a fight you'll learn how to win the next one. Eventually, you'll be invincible. But not if you skip training.'

I looked down at my slim, freckled hands and whisper 'I can't go back to training.'

The girl looked closely at me, taking in my red rimmed eyes and spiky eyelashes.

'What's your name?' she asked more gently.

'Clove.' I sniffed.

'I'm Aurelia. Want to tell me what's up?'

'No. Nothings up. Why are you being so nice anyway?'

She turned away from me and looked out the window.

'I thought maybe you could use a friend.'

'You thought wrong. I don't need friends.'

'We can be enemies if you like?' she grinned.

Despite myself I felt a grin creeping across my face.

'Fine. We're enemies.'

She laughed. 'Get back to training, Clove.'

'I don't know the way.' I said in a small voice.

'No problem. Come on, I'll show you the way.'

She turned and started walking back down the corridor, but I remained by the window for a moment. The dark haired girl was fighting another opponent, a boy slightly smaller than her. She kicked him to the ground then drove her spear into the grass merely an inch from his neck.

'Clove! Stay with me!' Aurelia called over her shoulder.

I tore myself away from the window and ran after her.


End file.
